Chapter Eighteen

Cat

Sweet mother of God. My vagina will never be the same. I stare at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath. That was… unbelievable. I can absolutely see how sex that good, that amazing, can cloud your brain and make you believe it's something more.

Thank god he pushes off the bed and heads into the bathroom before I profess my undying devotion to his sex skills.

When he returns, the glare of lust still fills his eyes. He climbs back in bed to lay beside me, snuggling me close.

“Cat?” he whispers in the darkness.

“Yeah,” I murmur, fighting the sleep taking over. He has fucked me into a sated comatose state of bliss.

“I want to do more of that.” He laughs a little, and I smile.

You bet your ass we will. “Me too.”

“Is that why you were always naked?” I ask, my lids falling closed. “To seduce me?”

“No,” he answers, laughing a little. “I sleep naked, and I like to have my coffee first thing.”

“Okay,” I mumble, “just wondering. Because it was working a little.”

He kisses my cheek, and I drift off to sleep.

***

The next morning when I wake up, Booker is gone. A crumpled pillow and wrinkled, white sheet are the only evidence he was there. I grab my clothes from the floor and get dressed to make my walk of shame. Things look so different in the light of day streaming in the window. The night time hides all the reasons why I shouldn't have done this.

I tiptoe down the hallway into the living room where he stands staring out the window to the ocean.

He turns to me. “Good morning,” he says.

“I need to go and pick up Cooper.”

“Want me to drive you?” he offers.

“And then what?” I brush past him and move into the kitchen to grab my purse with him trailing behind me. “I’m still mad at you.”

“At me?” he points to his chest, “What did I do?”

I rummage through my purse in search of my keys. “We don’t have time to discuss it again.”

He raises a brow. “Well, anytime you’d like to discuss it again, let me know.” He gives me a sexy smile, and I roll my eyes.

“I have to go.”

I rush out of the house, unsure about everything. Was last night a mistake? I mean, I should've put up a little bit more resistance. But, God help me, I wanted him.

After picking up Cooper, my thoughts are all over the place as I go through the motions of showering and the daily routine. Later in the evening, I watch Cooper play in the yard as I rock on the front porch swing. I don’t even feel like calling Tristan, because I know if I do, it makes it more real. More permanent. And permanent is something it will never be. Right now, I just want to remember the way he touched me. The way he felt deep inside me when he came.

How he held me afterward. It won't happen again.

God, I want it to.

But, it can’t.

If anything, it could only ever be just sex. S-E-X. My phone buzzes beside me.

Please let me see you again.

I don’t answer.

The next few days, I get busy in my routine, dropping Cooper off at school, planting a few bushes for the city of Ferndale’s Chamber of Commerce building, anything that keeps me busy so I can clear my head. What he did with Austin bothers me less than what Austin did. As much as I don't understand his job, or why people would need this, it was a job. I was a stranger, and he believed Austin’s delusions. I wasn't a stranger to Austin. Still, I'm not ready to let him off so easy just yet. His text remains unanswered, even though I want to more than anything.

Tonight, snuggled in bed, with the rain pelting against the window, I seem to be having a really hard time getting my mind off of him. I sit up and grab my laptop and search his website for articles. After reading the archives and a million love advice questions, I realize it's useless to avoid him any longer. If he’s only in town for a little while, well, I want to see him again. Feel him again. Have him touch me again.

I’d almost sell my soul for one more night with him.

I pull out my phone.

Meet me at my house tomorrow. 11am.

He answers back with a simple ‘ok.’

The next morning, after Cooper is gone to school and I get ready, I’m all nerves. I grab my phone and send a text to Tristan.

Me: I did something. And I'm about to do another thing.

Tristan: What are these things?

Me: Booker, bed, and bliss.

Tristan: CATHERINE. I have a meeting with the contractor for the store in five minutes but I will be calling you later.

I text back that I'll call her tonight and toss the phone in my handbag when a knock sounds. All my worries disappear when I open the door, and the air zaps with an electrical charge, flowing through us both.

He raises his brow, leaning against the pillar on my front porch, and all my plans for today fly out the window. Instead, I want to pull him inside, to my bedroom, and have him undress me.

“Hey,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He moves forward, bringing me into him.

“Did you want to discuss why you’re mad at me?” He pulls back, his brown eyes searching mine.

I do want to discuss it with him, but I don’t want anything to ruin the magic between us right now. Because this feeling I’m having right now, I don’t ever want it to end. But, I know it will, so I want to hold on to it, grasp it with all my might for as long as I can.

“Want to see some whales?” I ask. “Every year, about fifteen-thousand gray whales swim South for the winter from December through May. So, we may see them.”

He steps back, dropping his arms from around me. “Uh, ok. Not what I was expecting you to say.”

I laugh a little as I grab my bag from the side table by the door and lock up. “Well, I’ve told you I'm different.”

“Yes, you are, Catherine Wells,” his heated stare sweeps over me, “yes, you are.

When we arrive at the marina, I grab the clipboard from the ORCAstrated building, and find a boat not being used today. After letting my father know I’m taking Booker on a private tour, and making sure he can pick Cooper up from school, we find the Chelsea.

“I have to snap a picture of the name,” Booker says, pulling out his phone. “My best friend’s wife is named Chelsea.”

“Oh, ok. Snap away.” I untie the thick rope from the dock and throw it on board.

Once we are on the boat, I get everything in order to begin our journey.

“It’s kind of sexy watching you so focused,” he says, leaning against the side.

“And I’m getting turned on by you watching me.” Well, I am.

“I like that.” He sits down, and I steer the boat out of the marina and into open waters.

Once we’re a ways out, and I let the boat idle, we sit on the observation deck waiting for a glimpse of whales.

It's peaceful out here, the gentle sway of the boat, the warm sun shining on the dark water.

“I miss this,” I tell him. “I haven't been out much since I was hired by you.”

The weight of how I came to work for him hangs in the air, threatening to sink this carefree day.

He looks over at me. “You have to believe I didn’t know you when Austin hired me. I didn’t know about Cooper,” he takes a breath, the wind whipping through his hair, “and I tried to be impersonal, just do a job, but I just couldn’t. You captivated me.”

I regard his honest eyes and release the insecurity marring how we met into the vastness surrounding us, letting the wind carry it away. “I believe you.” Feeling lighter, I scoot closer to him. “So, tell me about this best friend and his wife.”

He leans back, placing an arm around me, explaining how he met his friends and how Jonah is now married to Declan’s sister, Chelsea.

“They sound great.” I smile. “I don't know what I'd do without Tristan.”

“Yeah, they made things easier when I went to LA.”

A cloud passes over the sun, shadowing his eyes.

“Because you had just lost your dad?” I ask.

He shifts his body, and my hand falls from his lap. “Yeah, something like that,” he says, his voice nearly on the edge of breaking.

“Do you miss him?”

He squares his shoulders, clenching his jaw as his lips press into a thin line. “Not really. I mean, sure sometimes.”

“Oh,” I say.

“I try to block out my time here in Ferndale.” He glances away with a shut-down look on his handsome face.

I want to ask why. I want to ask if he hates it here so much. But, fear deepens at the fact he probably can’t wait to rush home to his life in LA.

“You love living in LA?” I ask.

“Sure, my friends and family are there.” His eyes light up a fraction.

“Yeah, I could never picture leaving my father.” I stare out at the rippling water. “Sometimes I wonder why it was so easy for her to leave us.” I nibble my bottom lip. “Maybe that's why I like whales so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” I peek over at him, “they're very maternal. They've been known to adopt objects and turn them into surrogate babies.” He sits silent, listening. “I was so afraid I wouldn't have that instinct with Cooper. Terrified. And then his father wanted no part of his life,” I shake my head, remembering the hell of those first few years.

“You look like there's more to that story,” he says.

I hesitate but then, confide in him. “He wanted me to give him up. Said he would ruin me and my father.”

Booker's hand stills. “Ruin you how?”

“His family is wealthy. They threatened my father’s business. Me.” He stiffens. “Well, that just wasn't going to happen. No matter what he threatened, he underestimated my love for my baby.” I look over at Booker, his brow furrowed, watching me intently. “You can't understand what it feels like.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

“When it was over, I decided Cooper would never feel that sting of rejection. I would love him so much,” my voice breaks a little, “he'd never miss what he never had.”

He leans in and kisses me, gently, dropping his forehead to mine. “I'm sorry,” he says.

“No, I'm sorry,” I say, rising to walk to the edge of the observation deck, “that was all very Eeyore of me.”

His light laughter carries on the breeze. “Eeyore?”

“Yeah,” I say, lowering my voice and dragging out the words, “poor me.”

He grins. “Nice impression.”

“Does your mom like LA?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

He gives me an uncertain look, one I can’t quite read before answering. “Maybe. She died a few months back, and I got the house. Lucky me.”

“How did she die?”

“She drowned in the ocean.” He stands. “Or at least that’s what they told me.”

And I feel like the biggest ass on the planet bringing him out here today.